The Voyagers
by LightningRaider
Summary: In the midst of a twenty year war between Tamriel and Akavir, six adventurers are sent on a mission to recover Elder Scrolls scattered around the world, only to discover that the high seas, and the lands they come upon, are not so friendly. New chapter every two days.
1. Prologue

_An approaching death rose over the skies of Solitude. The glossy wings of twin dragons cast a black shadow over Solitude's residents. The scorching heat of their flames burned all the buildings to a crisp, and reduced the guards to a pile of ashes. Their ferocious bites cracked the bones of even the strongest Nord defenders, and slaughtered their wives. I stood there motionless as all those around me were slaughtered; even the children were not spared. However, I noticed these dragons were not working alone. On their backs were two figures, both dressed in a shiny steel armor, and carrying glass swords in one hand and a rope tied to the neck of the dragon in the other. But even more shockingly, these figures were not men or mer, their top half was much like a man but possessed a serpentine head, but their lower half was of a snake! These figures were controlling the dragons! I ran through the Solitude streets in fear as the world around me was crumbling. But before I could run outside the city, the snake man stopped me in my tracks with a restriction spell. I struggled to break out of my invisible bonds as the snake man slowly walked to me. He drew his glass sword and pointed it to my neck, a vision that I would retain for the rest of my life. He chuckled and said, "I will spare you little one, but only if you tell all of Tamriel that the legions of Akavir have descended upon your land." I nodded in fear of death, and the snake man released his magic and allowed me to run outside the city. After I had escaped the burning flames of Solitude, I looked back on the city and knew that my life would never be the same._

"No!" I shouted as I awoke. Looking around, I noticed I wasn't in Solitude anymore, thank god. It had been close to twenty years since the Akaviri invasion, and at their attack on Solitude. I was only five or six years old, but that event had scarred me for the rest of my life. I shook my head and stepped out of the rough tent that I had slept in, and took in a deep breath of The Reach air. As I viewed the stars above the rolling hills of The Reach, my employer, a Khajit trader named Ma'Dran stepped out of his tent and approached me angrily.

"What the hell are you doing Skulzak?" he whispered forcefully. "You could attract Forsworn, or even worse, an Akaviri raid!"

"I know, but it all comes down to whether you want an Orcish Warhammer down your throat or not Ma'Dran," I said threateningly.

Ma'Dran took a step backward, clearly frightened by my aggressive attitude. "I'll talk to you in the morning Skulzak okay? Don't be angry alright!" he stuttered, and returned to his tent.

I pulled a small wooden chair from near the caravan, which hardly supported my massive frame. I reposed on the chair and took out a small pipe and a satchel from my bag, and poured small bits of skooma powder into the pipe. I struck the match and let the flame catch onto the pipe, witnessing the beautiful contrast of light and dark, and the smoke that seemed to rise into the heavens. I was an Orc mercenary, the one apparent thing that everyone knew when they looked at me. Not my love for literature, history, or the arts, but the fact that I could crack a bandit's skull to pieces before he was even able to render what was happening to him. It was true, but the only reason I became a mercenary was to support myself, not for the enjoyment. An Orc couldn't waste his natural talents. Yet, I could hardly stand the constant bickering of employers, especially Khajit merchants, or the lengthy travels. Unlike most Orcs, I just wanted to sit down and write about the history of Nirn, a book that I had already started on my travels. As the skooma ran out, I tapped the remaining powder out and walked to the caravan, where I took some more from the cargo. The only advantage to working for the Khajit was their seemingly unlimited supply of skooma.

Reaching inside my small bag, I pulled out my copy of _The History of Nirn v.1_, a book that I had been writing for nearly a year. I gently opened the paperbound book and browsed what I had written the latest. It was titled, "The History of Akavir", something the residents of Tamriel had learned far too much about in the past two decades of war. Still, Akavir was a part of Nirn, something I had to include in my book. I grabbed an ink pot and gently dipped my quill inside it, and swirled it around so just the correct amount would remain on the tip of quill. I glanced down at my work and began to write.

_Akavir, the continent far east of Tamriel, had been elusive to the citizens of the nine provinces for millennia. That is until the Akaviri invasion of Tamriel in 4E 205, which revealed details previously unknown. It is encompassed of four provinces that are all under one flag, the Akaviri Legion. It is a diverse place, much like Tamriel, consisting of deserts, jungles, tundra, and plains. There are six primary races that inhabit it, the Tsaesci, Kamal, Tang Mo, Ka'Po'Tun, Men of Akavir, and Dragons. The Tsaesci are a snake like people that excel in magic, combat and most notably, diplomacy. The Kamal are brutish snow demons that stand over three meters tall, and are covered in a thick white fur. They excel in combat, making up the bulk of heavy forces in the Legion army. The Tang Mo are a race that most resembles monkeys, but are far larger and civilized. They excel as scouts, and light footed infantry, but don't make good diplomats or leaders. The Ka'Po'Tun are the most fierce of the Akaviri races, and most resemble Khajit that are striped like tigers, but are far larger and stronger. They excel in all forms of combat, and make excellent military leaders. The Men of Akavir are the most oppressed of all the races, and the most numerous. They make up the large slave population in Akavir, but are also present in large numbers in the army. Possessing wide eyes, sharp cheekbones, and smaller frames than the men of Tamriel, they have had a large cultural influence on the Empire since the First Era. Dragons, the last race, are enslaved and used as mounts by Akaviri soldiers. How the Akaviri managed to enslave the dragons is still unknown. _

"That's enough for tonight," I said to myself, and closed the book. Placing it back in the satchel, I heard a loud noise coming from the hills in the distance. The vociferous screams rang only one enemy in my mind-The Forsworn.


	2. An Ancient Artifact

I quickly threw my chair backwards and donned my Orcish helmet and drew my warhammer as they approached. There were five of them, two briarhearts, one mage, and two archers. Fighting Forsworn was all too familiar for me, as my highest paying employers transported goods across the treacherous Reach. The first briarheart drew his sword and shouted, "For the Reach!" He thrust his sword in a forward direction, allowing me to easily parry it with the side of my hammer, and finish him off with a decapitating blow to the head. Just after I had slaughtered the briarheart, I was faced with a Frost Atronach conjured by the mage. It pummeled its icy hand to my face, where it was met by a strong Orc fist. It was colder than ice, but I kept pushing the icy fist forward, so far back that the atronach punched itself in the face, shattering the ice it was made of. Leaving the mage defenseless, I drew an iron dagger from my waist and shot it towards the mage, where it firmly placed itself at the peak of her forehead. The last briarheart was fierce, and repeatedly shot fireballs at me, which I barely dodged. WHOOSH! A fireball whizzed past my cheek, knocking my hammer to the side and throwing me off-balance. Noticing my disadvantage, the briarheart rushed in for the kill.

"HYAH!" he shouted, cutting his sword in a forward direction. Luckily, I was prepared for such circumstances. Just before he decapitated me, I skillfully turned my head and sunk my teeth and tusks into the fleshy wood of the sword. He was perplexed at my actions, and tried to pull the sword out of my teeth and tusks, but not before I had choked him to death with my burly hand.

I stood up, exhausted after eviscerating the bodies that were strewn before me. I picked up my warhammer and searched for the two remaining Forsworn, who seemed out of sight. Peering into the Khajit tent, I saw the merchant and his wife slaughtered; their blood splattered on the tent walls like paint on an artist's easel.

"Damn," I thought. "There goes my pay." I traversed my massive frame outside the tent, only to encounter a Forsworn bow pointed directly towards me. Realizing there was no other option; I put my hands up and knelt before the two Forsworn in front of me.

"Alright Orc, here's how it's going to work!" shouted the male Forsworn in a thick Breton accent. "You are going to hand over the caravan, your armor, and all your valuables."

"Then we are going to drag you back to our camp, and put your head on a spike!" the other Forsworn chimed in.

My mind went into overdrive, as I thought of all the methods I could use to get out of my predicament. Silently, I reached for my last Orcish dagger, but before I could draw it, a bright light illuminated the night sky.

Soaring out of the clouds, puffs of smoke furling along its brown wings, appeared a dragon! Immediately, the Forsworn archer pointed his bow towards the dragon, notched an arrow with precision, and released it. It flew straight, and impaled the dragon in its foot. I stood up and drew my warhammer; I had never killed a dragon.

"Forget our disagreement, help us kill the dragon!" shouted one of the Forsworn. It was uncommon for an Orc, but I knew how to wield a bow. I picked up a long bow from the Khajit tent and began to rapidly fire at the massive dragon looming above me. However, as the fight continued, I realized this was no ordinary dragon. When it swept downward, I noticed that there was a leash attached to its neck, and a figure on top of it. This was an Akaviri raid!

"YOL TOOR SHUL!" shouted the dragon, releasing a flame that scorched the female Forsworn. She cringed for a second, but not before the dragon swept downwards again, crunching her bones with its massive bite.

"Damn! We can't kill him now!" I screamed.

"Wait. I have an idea," said the remaining Forsworn. "When the Dragon swoops next, I'll shoot it in the wing, which will give you a chance to jump on!"

"Are you insane?"

"It's the only option we have now."

This plan was ludicrous, but it was indeed the only option we had. When the cold wings of the dragon swept down next, the young archer released his arrow, striking the beast in its wing.

"RAAH!" the Dragon screamed in pain as it throttled downwards into the hilly ground. I raised my hand to block the flying dust towards me, and dashed towards the momentarily paralyzed dragon.

"YAAH!" I let out as I jumped on top of the dragon, decapitating the shadowy figure above. The head of the figure rolled away as I pushed the rest of the body off the dragon's back. As the dragon continued to flail around in the ground, I wrestled it by the horns as it lifted itself off the ground.

"FO KRAH DIIN!" the dragon shouted, releasing a jet of ice that froze my hands to its horns.

"AAUGH!" I screamed as the dragon flew wildly through the air. It attempted to shake me off, but my hands were still frozen within the ice that encapsulated them. "Damn," I thought. "There is no way out of this." Just before I was about to give up, a flame tipped arrow impaled itself into the icy barrier around my hands. The icy quickly began to melt as another flaming arrow was thrust into the ice. Looking downwards, I saw the Forsworn warrior shooting arrows after placing the tip into a torch to engulf the tip in flames.

"Smart," I thought, and removed my hands from the ice. "Ahhhg," I yelped as I lost my balance on top of the dragon. Luckily, I caught hold of the leash with one hand just in time, dangling from the neck of the dragon as it continued to soar through the air. Thinking on my feet, I drew my warhammer with my free hand, and proceeded to lift it above my head. It was an enormous burden, lifting a two handed warhammer with only one hand, whilst fighting a dragon mid-air. Still, I managed to raise it high and bash the dragon with the head of the hammer.

The dragon released a weak roar, and descended to the ground slowly. Letting go of the rope, I landed on my feet, rushing towards the dragon to finish it. The dragon attempted to cower away in fear, but by now it was no match for my Orcish dagger that pierced it in the eye. Without uttering a single sound, the dragon's body slumped to the ground, utterly lifeless. Of course I knew that I hadn't killed it forever, for I was no Dragonborn. Only rendering it lifeless until another dragon could resurrect it.

I was drenched in sweat, but still managed to walk my way to the Forsworn that survived the attack. "Hey..you!" I stuttered; the effects of the skooma were getting to me. My vision was clouded by droplets of blood from the dragon's snout when I stabbed it. The Forsworn knelt on the ground, observing the body of the dragon rider.

"This one seems to be a Tsaesci," the Forsworn stated as he scrutinized the body.

"I'm guessing he was a messenger based on that satchel over there," I added. "Alright, I'm going to check it out."

The Forsworn took off his deer mask, revealing only a teenager. He looked around fifteen or sixteen, but definitely sounded older. He grabbed the satchel and pried his hands inside, looking for something of use. "Woah!" he shouted in surprise.

"What is it?" I questioned.

"I've found something long with pointed ends in this satchel. It looks like a manuscript or something; I bet I could sell it for a high price."

"Well then, pull it out!"

The Forsworn then pulled out the most astonishing thing that could have ever come out of a messenger's satchel. I stood in awe as the Forsworn toyed with the artifact retrieved from the bag.

"Why are you staring like that? Looks expensive doesn't it? I bet this could go for like a thousand septims," the Forsworn asked.

"What you have in your hand," I paused, "is so rare that a price cannot be placed on its value.

"Well, what is it!"

"You have," I took a deep breath, "an Elder Scroll."


End file.
